


What All This Time Was For

by lady_ragnell



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, School Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 03:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4591800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_ragnell/pseuds/lady_ragnell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>On the rare occasions he reminisces about high school Foggy kind of wonders if he isn't just filling in the worst parts of teen comedies.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Foggy goes to his high school reunion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What All This Time Was For

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/3230.html?thread=6523550#cmt6523550) at daredevilkink on DW.
> 
> The title is from John Mayer's "No Such Thing," of course.
> 
> For someone whose time in high school was actually pretty good apparently I have a lot of petty feelings.
> 
> ETA: Since it's become an FAQ, I am not planning to write a sequel to this fic.

“Foggy, you've got mail from what looks like an alumni foundation from somewhere?”

Foggy groans and takes the mail when Karen hands it over. “If they want my money, they can't have it. Columbia keeps asking, they seem to have this fond hope that their matriculated lawyers make a living wage.”

“If it were Columbia, I would have told you,” says Karen, rolling her eyes and taking the pile of probable junk mail and bills to her desk to sort, but Foggy is already staring in mild horror at the return stamp and doing some mental math. It's pretty easy math.

His heart must be doing something, because Matt pokes his head out of his office and frowns at Foggy. “Mail call?”

“I am suspecting this is the doom every kid who was unpopular in high school dreads. Or looks forward to, I guess.” Matt's still frowning, more confused than worried now, and Foggy sighs. “Karen, back me up here: high school reunion. Worst thing?”

“It can't be that bad,” Matt says, although Karen's making a scrunched-up sort of face that says she knows exactly what he means. Which is weird, in retrospect, because Karen is very pretty and it's hard to imagine high school sucking for her.

“You don't get to have an opinion here, you probably had people swooning all over you like in law school.”

Matt snorts. “Yes, Foggy, the blind orphan who lived with _nuns_ was very well-liked and popular.”

Point. Both of them have always kind of avoided talking about high school. Foggy probably should have extrapolated from that, plus there's the whole post-trauma thing from Stick that Matt would have still been dealing with in high school. “Well then, you know exactly why I'm annoyed about this invitation.”

“Come on, Foggy, it can't be that bad,” says Karen, and it's the opposite of convincing. At least she tries. “You're a lawyer with your own practice, you even got some press after Fisk. You think your classmates wouldn't be impressed?”

“When you're as unpopular as I was, you don't come to the reunion unless you think you're going to out-and-out win it, and I think that's unlikely.”

“You can't win a reunion,” says Matt, who is possibly the most competitive person in the world and _knows_ that's a lie. Even Karen is giving him a pitying look, and Matt must be able to supersense that, because he sighs and shakes his head. “Don't go if you don't want to, but you have nothing at all to be ashamed of. I'll go if you need moral support. Unless Brett is going?”

“Brett was a year ahead of me, thank God, Bess likes me way more than he does.”

“You haven't even opened the envelope,” Karen points out. “It could be a plea for money after all.”

Foggy opens the envelope. There's a cheerful clipart of balloons around the number 10 that is probably intended for kids' birthdays at the top, and then an invitation and an RSVP number and a cheerful note that it's organized by Stephanie Wallis, who once told him it was a pity he liked girls too because she could have used a gay friend. On the rare occasions he reminisces about high school Foggy kind of wonders if he isn't just filling in the worst parts of teen comedies. “If only. Is the shredder working, Karen?”

She laughs, hand over her mouth. “Not right now. You've still got that dart you stole from Josie's, right? Use it for target practice, maybe that will help.”

Foggy laughs. “Maybe I will.”

Matt frowns from the door to his office because Matt is the poster child for facing your demons, but if Matt goes to his high school reunion he's going to show up looking like an underwear model so Foggy refuses to deal with his judgey expression.

After a minute, Karen asks a question about their thoughts on charity donations and whether the fax machine is worth donating, and Foggy figures that's the end of it.

*

It's not the end of it, because Foggy sometimes forgets that he graduated high school with Cousin Meg.

“If you don't go,” she says on the phone after his mother (the traitor) tells Karen (the traitor) that it's very necessary that he has a conversation with his cousin about important legal matters, “then everyone's going to think it's because you're scared. So you go, you have a few drinks, you keep a low profile and talk to the people in our graduating class who didn't suck, you spend a night in a hotel so you aren't on a twin mattress on your floor for at least one night, and you forget about it for another ten years.”

“Excuse you, it is a _full size_ mattress on my floor. Bedframes are for people with regular paychecks.”

Meg laughs at him. “Come on, Foggy, I think you're overestimating the success of our classmates. You've got a law degree, you've got Matt—”

“Matt does not count as a trophy spouse.”

“Details,” says Meg, and Foggy really hopes Matt isn't listening to this conversation. He says he tries not to eavesdrop, but he also loves Foggy's family enough to be nosy. “Is he coming?”

“It would be weird for him to show up to a high school reunion without the person who was actually invited. Unless you want to ditch Jeff and have a torrid affair, I guess.”

Meg sighs like she's very disappointed in him. “Honey, if I thought Matt would, I would seriously consider it, but at this point you're fighting a losing battle and we both know it. One night in a hotel, with an open bar, telling everyone you've got your own law practice.”

“My own very broke law practice.”

“Yeah, you don't have to tell them that part. Like they're going to be talking about their alcohol problems and their ex-wives. You just don't tell them you're broke! Simple.”

At this point, it's just delaying the inevitable to protest that he isn't going. His mother, Karen, Meg, and most horrifyingly Matt all seem to agree that he should do it. Everything from here on out is just getting the best possible bargain. “If I let you talk me into this, you back me up next time Nana and the aunts start laying it on thick about me getting married instead of laughing at me.”

“I think it's sweet that they've tried to be inclusive since New York legalized gay marriage,” says Meg, but she's laughing, the traitor. “At least they haven't done it too much in front of Matt.”

But they've done it while Matt's been in the house, or out in the yard since the Nelson children collectively adore him. That hasn't occurred to Foggy before, and he is going to have to scream a little about it sometime when he is several blocks away from Matt. He has really uncomfortable waking nightmares about just how many lies Matt has played along with over the years and this isn't even lying but it's still uncomfortable. “Either way, can I count on your support?”

“This is not actually a personal favor to me, you realize.”

“You're the one who wants me to go, so I kind of think it is. Are you on my side?” She hums, and Foggy goes in for the kill. “I mean, if you _want_ someone there to run interference so Jeff and Joey will never meet ...”

“Fine, fine, for the purpose of preventing my dear husband being thrown in jail I will back you up with Nana and the aunts.”

Foggy grins. “Maybe I shouldn't go after all. I could defend him if he got thrown in jail.”

“Ha ha. So, you'll send in your RSVP this week and talk Matt into coming, right? Matt's your trump card, even if you aren't married he's still hot enough to count.”

“Matt offered to come already,” says Foggy.

The pause that follows is long enough that he feels like he's given something away, but he didn't. He's not going to overexplain Matt coming to his high school reunion just like he doesn't explain Matt coming to Christmas and Thanksgiving and getting his own invitation to Cousin Stacey's wedding. Matt's presence in his life doesn't need explaining at this point. “Of course he did,” she finally says, sounding nothing but exasperated. “I shouldn't have resorted to extortionate tactics, I should have just let him lecture you. Now I've got to go, your mother just finished a batch of cookies, but we'll talk about coordinating hotel rooms and stuff. See you soon, Foggy!”

She hangs up, and Foggy makes a face at the phone before he pokes his head out of the office to look at Karen, who is trying to look like an innocent angel and actually doing a really good job, and Matt, who's lurking by the braille printer pretending really badly that he wasn't eavesdropping. “For the record,” he tells Karen, because Matt is smirking and Foggy may yell at him if he tries to say anything, “if my mother calls the office instead of my cell it can be assumed that she is calling for nefarious reasons. Please pretend that I am busy and important.”

“What was she calling about?” Matt asks, with terribly faked innocence.

Foggy sighs. “It looks like I'm going to that reunion after all.”

*

“I'll pay for the hotel room, or part of it, if you like.”

Matt looks just as awkward as he does whenever he mentions money, which is fair, since Foggy isn't sure which of them hates it more. Matt hates the reminder that it's still the last of the inheritance he got from his dad and Foggy hates that it ever has to come up at all. This time, though, he just rolls his eyes. “For my high school reunion, Matt? Don't be ridiculous.”

“I'm part of what convinced you to go.”

“So you're saying that you and Meg and Mom should split it three ways and Karen should chip in for room service? Because that's what I'm hearing.” No one is more stubborn than Foggy, especially where Matt's concerned. Matt's just lucky that Foggy doesn't put up a fight very often, because Matt folds like a bad hand of poker every time he does.

“If I'm staying in the room with you, then it stands to reason I should help pay.”

Foggy shakes his head, and has to stop himself from saying he did it. He's still trying to figure out what Matt can and can't hear, but he's erring on the side of assuming Matt knows things for now. “I know I say I'm broke a lot, buddy, but this isn't a luxury hotel and I've still got Christmas money because I'm thrifty.” He'd kind of earmarked it for a major upgrade on his first aid kid after he found out about Matt, but that will have to wait.

“You'll let me pay for meals and the cab over, then.”

“I think Meg and Jeff will drive us over, no cabs needed.”

“Meals and incidentals.”

It's only an overnight. That means hardly anything, if he can keep Matt from doing something sneaky. He unfortunately has a lot of faith in Matt's ability to be sneaky these days. “Fine, meals and incidentals, we'll renegotiate that if we need to.” Foggy sighs and leans back in his chair. It's been a long day in the office, back and forth to the police station three times and no coherent defense yet for a case that would be open and shut if prosecutors weren't assholes. “I still don't get why you want to come in the first place.”

“Because I want to support you.”

Foggy rolls his eyes. “Wrong question, clearly. Why do you want me to go, Matt?”

Matt pauses for long enough that Foggy stops being casually annoyed and starts paying attention. He doesn't know what he's going to do if Matt tells him one of his classmates grew up to become a mob boss. Cry, possibly. Mob boss probably means winning the reunion by default. “You never talked about high school,” Matt finally says.

Foggy blinks at him. Matt almost certainly can't sense that, unless he's listening to Foggy's eyelashes, but he is really disinclined to narrate it. “Neither did you. I felt like it wasn't really relevant to things.”

“You tell me all sorts of stories that you don't think are relevant, if you think I'll think they're funny. About your family and elementary school and undergrad.” Matt looks down. “I didn't think about it. How unhappy you must have been to never talk about it.”

“So you want me to go relive years of hell?” he asks, confused.

Matt shakes his head, frowning. “I know you think your life isn't impressive, but I think if you go and see them, you'll find it's a lot better than you think, and maybe than they think.”

Foggy laughs, startled. “Oh man, you think I'm winning the reunion! Your loyalty is much appreciated, buddy, but you are going to find yourself disappointed. Fair warning, I'll disown you if you spend the night in the hotel room of someone who was mean to me in high school.”

“I would never do that,” Matt says, offended. He's right. Matt may be one for the ladies but he is definitely not one for hurting Foggy, most of the time. “And I don't think you're winning the reunion, but I think you'll feel better instead of worse after you've gone. Confronted your past.”

“This is some weird ninja-training related thing.” Foggy sighs and scrubs his hands over his eyes while Matt splutters out a denial. “Wax on, wax whatever.”

“Foggy …” Matt huffs out an annoyed noise, because he sulks like a six-year-old. “I've never seen you intimidated by something like this, not even the bar exam. You don't have any obligation to win a stupid reunion, but you can't let _them_ win it either.”

“You're going to get an invitation in a few months and I am going to summarize this whole conversation back at you so you can resent me just as much as I resent you right now.”

Matt leans, searching with his hand until it lands on Foggy's knee. “We're going to be fine, Foggy. And if it makes you feel better we'll go to my reunion together as well and I'll tell them that I definitely won the reunion because I have you as my partner.”

“You default win your reunion for being a hot superhero with a law degree.”

“I can't tell them about a third of that, can't confirm another third, and you have a law degree as well.”

“Bullshit you can't, aren't heartbeats an indicator of hotness?” Foggy taps Matt's hand. “Look, I'm going. I'll confront my demons or whatever and you'll tell me horror stories about what hotel mattresses smell like and the next night we'll go out with Karen and tell her the story of how Conrad Whittier still hates me but at least didn't throw my textbooks onto the subway rail this time.”

Matt gets a crime-fighting look on his face, and Foggy suddenly wonders if it's a really bad idea to bring Matt to this thing. Matt gets a wee bit protective of Foggy sometimes, which was nice when he just thought it was Matt mother-henning and sometimes verbally smacking people down and is a little scary now that Foggy knows Matt can actually smack people down.

“It's going to be fine, Matt. Conrad Whittier probably grew up to be a priest and repented of all his childhood bullying and will just try to save our souls, which should be fun for the whole family.”

Matt squeezes Foggy's knee again. “Just remember I'll be there with you every step of the way.”

So that way both of them can be upset when Foggy can't pretend he's over high school. Great. “You always are,” he says, since it's the only positive thing he can think of that isn't a lie, and he's rewarded with Matt's smile.

*

The hotel the reunion is happening at is practically in Jersey, since the alumni fund isn't enough to pay for someplace better. Foggy actually lives closer to his alma mater than the hotel is, which is probably ridiculous. Jeff and Meg, luckily, have a car since Jeff is always going off on business trips, so they drive over together after Foggy and Matt shut down the office an hour early on Friday afternoon and tell Karen to enjoy her weekend.

“I talked to Meredith, got the scoop on everything,” says Meg as soon as they're in the car, turning around in the front seat. “She's on the alumni committee because she's working in the school office these days—I told you that, right? Anyway, she says it's mostly booze and bad decorations, but also yearbook pictures so, you know, prepare yourself.”

Foggy makes a face and turns to Matt. “Be glad you can't see those. I was a really awkward kid and high school was the era where I discovered my hair is really weird when it's short.”

“Also he had braces till he was sixteen.”

“Thanks, Meg.” Matt is frowning, fingers tapping restlessly on his thigh, and Foggy wants to ask if this is reunion-related (and if so why the hell he wanted to come in the first place) or if he's worried about leaving Hell's Kitchen to its own devices for a night. Matt has essentially made himself babysitter to the world's worst toddler, now that Foggy thinks about it. “Anyway, Matt doesn't care, he can go on blithely assuming that I've always been the charming and suave man I am today.”

That startles Matt into a grin. “Your mother narrated your whole growing-up scrapbook to me once.”

Foggy knows the scrapbook well. His mom still updates it when she feels sentimental (the most recent entry that he knows about in it is a Nelson and Murdock business card), and the early parts are fairly embarrassing, what with the pictures of him falling asleep in spaghetti and dressing up as a watermelon for Halloween. “This whole family is against me. Anyone I actually like showing up, Meg?”

“Besides me? And Meredith, I guess, she liked you fine. I think she said some of the AV guys would be there, and Benny Rosenbaum if you feel like rekindling your crush.”

Matt makes an interested noise, and Foggy immediately knows he's doomed. “Who's Benny Rosenbaum?”

Meg is already opening her mouth, and Foggy decides that if he tells the story himself at least he'll be able to have some control over how it gets told. “The one classmate besides Meg who I'm still friends with on Facebook and the reason I ended up coming out as bi in high school.” He shrugs when Matt frowns in his direction. “I asked him to Homecoming. He said no, but he was nice about it.”

“Benny was the lead in all the drama club productions,” says Meg. “Foggy would make me go like four times so he could swoon. I think he got him flowers once.”

“Hey, no, that is blatantly false, I just got his autograph and told him he was going to be famous someday.”

Matt is still frowning. “And is he famous?”

Meg starts laughing. Jeff is the only person in the car ignoring this conversation. Good, reliable Jeff. He's boring but Foggy likes him, because he's not a terrible person, unlike some people. “He's an accountant in Trenton,” she says.

“Not everyone gets their childhood dreams. For instance, I am neither a shark-tamer nor Big Bird.”

Still with the frown. “Well, he'll get a chance to see what he missed out on.”

Honestly. “Yes, I'm sure he and his very nice wife will be heartbroken. Didn't you ever have a high school crush? Can you honestly tell me you still think it would be a good idea to be with them?”

Matt doesn't answer, still looking mutinous, and Meg must pick up on something, because she starts talking about their other classmates, all the information he's going to need to prepare to seem like he knows just little enough about it to play it cool. If he can manage the cool thing.

Eventually, Jeff captures Meg's attention, the two of them talking about some project they're doing in their apartment, which they own like the disgustingly financially stable adults they are. Foggy should have gone into engineering.

The back seat is quiet until Matt says, very quietly under the sound of Meg giving a major lambast about one of Jeff's co-workers, “Mary Jo Nealson. She was a year ahead of me and she tutored me in chemistry because I was still learning the braille to represent the chemical equations and I fell behind. I asked her to date me two weeks before midterms and we went on one before she decided I was too much trouble.”

“Well damn, if she's a year older than you she probably won't be at your reunion when we go so I can't rub her nose in how awesome you are.”

“You wouldn't need to. You just asked if I would think it's a good idea to date her still, and I don't. And I don't think you should date someone you've only seen on Facebook for the last ten years, but you can still show him what he's missing out on.”

“Stop telling secrets back there,” says Meg, and Foggy's kind of grateful because he's got no idea what to say to that. “Tell Jeff if this asshole at his office is doing anything illegal or not.”

It turns out he is, or at least something worthy of civil litigation, so Foggy ends up spending the rest of the drive wrapped up in the legal problem, exchanging ideas with Matt just like they do in the office and almost forgetting where they're going until finally Meg stops swearing about Jeff's coworker and starts swearing about how people park like assholes.

“Of course they do, we went to high school with them,” says Foggy, and tries to relax when Matt squeezes his arm.

*

The hotel lobby is bustling with vaguely familiar-looking people, but they're a little early, so Foggy just concentrates on checking Matt and himself into the hotel (one room, two beds, and he already wants to just spend the whole night in there like they did in law school) and telling Meg he'll see her down at the reception.

“We're in room 326,” Foggy says as they get in the elevator, “and this hotel is super non-ADA compliant which we can sue them for later, since it seems like they don't have braille or raised room numbers, so we'll have to pace it out for you if for some reason you have to come back here without me or with me incapacitated by beer.”

Matt laughs. “Hopefully they won't drive you to enough drink that you can't read numbers.”

Foggy mutters something he instantly forgets and finds their room, swiping his keycard and letting them in. At least the card has a raised bit so Matt should be able to tell which side has the magnetic strip on it. “Okay, here we are, hotel room sweet hotel room, please don't tell me someone was murdered in here recently.”

“Not recently,” Matt says, nose wrinkled up, and drops Foggy's arm to pull his suitcase a few steps in and then explore. He does it the same way he always does a new place when he isn't asking for a tour, even though he could probably stand in one place and figure out where the beds are. There are two of them, bigger than dorm beds but not luxurious, with comforters in an inoffensive shade of beige-ish green and generic hotel wall art on the walls above them.

“You'll have to smell the shampoo and tell me if it will bother your nose if I steal it,” says Foggy, putting his suitcase down, swinging the door shut, and starting his own inspection. It's fairly bare bones, just a television and a tiny bathroom and something that's trying to be both a side table and a desk. The view probably isn't worth having, since the curtains are shut.

“Probably. But I'll see.” Matt is feeling around in the drawers of the little table between the beds with the lamp on it. “I think I've got the cable directory and the Bible, if you need reading material.”

“Too bad they don't have it in braille.”

Matt shakes his head and shuts the door. He's smiling when he turns around. “I don't think I'll really need to spend much time reading the Bible tonight.”

“And hopefully won't end up doing anything that makes you feel the need to go to confession tomorrow. This is going to be a pretty tame party, though. Some booze, convincing Jeff that Meg's ex-boyfriend who got her arrested that one time is not worth killing, you know, the usual.”

Matt laughs. “Now you're saying it won't be eventful? I thought you were expecting a gauntlet of bullies. I'd much rather have boring, of course, but that's a change.”

Foggy shrugs. “I figure mostly they'll ignore me, which will be awkward but fairly pain-free. Now, do you want to freshen up in the bathroom first?”

“Thanks. About an hour until we have to go down?”

“Yeah, and there will be food there, but it's not a dinner or anything, so it's just going to be finger foods. Do you want to order something up?”

Matt shakes his head. “No, not unless we get hungry after we get back. I'll be able to identify whatever they're offering me by smell, or you can tell me if I'm not sure.”

“Okay, always good to have a plan. Now you go make sure you don't smell like car and change if you want, and I'll see what kind of pay-per-view they've got, since you're paying for incidentals.” Or text Karen and tell her that this was a terrible idea and he's going to walk a million miles to the nearest subway station and come home.

Matt makes a face like he wants to say something and then rummages in his suitcase to pull a few things out before he goes into the bathroom.

Foggy changes while Matt's in the bathroom, after a minute of dithering about it. It's not going to be weird. He and Matt changed in the room all the time in the dorm, and it shouldn't be different now.

When Matt comes out of the bathroom, he looks a lot less rumpled and he's wearing one of his rare shirts that's actually a color, which are usually date shirts. It's kind of a sideways honor, and Foggy grins when he claps Matt on the shoulder as they pass each other. “I'm going to do something about my hair and give myself a really rousing pep talk in the mirror and then we can talk about the disputed will case—the Sweeneys, right?—until it's time to head down.”

“The Sweeneys,” Matt confirms, and catches Foggy by the arm before he goes into the bathroom. “And you're going to be fine.”

That's basically all the pep talk Foggy needs, when Matt sounds so sure about it, but he still lingers in the bathroom, trying to avoid staring in the mirror like a cliché but still wondering how much he's changed, whether the hair and the suit are going to keep him from feeling fifteen again.

Matt is sitting on the edge of one of the beds when Foggy comes out, hands clasped on his knees, and he gives Foggy one of his encouraging smiles, like he does whenever he's trying to convince Foggy to do something that's probably a good idea in the long run. Someday Foggy is going to stop being a sucker for Matt smiling.

“Let's talk about the case,” says Foggy, and sits down on the other bed.

Meg has to text them after most of an hour to ask where the hell they are and to tell him that Stephanie Wallis is a bottle brunette now and it's the best thing that's ever happened to her.

“Once more into the breach?” Matt asks when Foggy goes quiet to read the text, already standing up.

Foggy stands up to and reaches out for Matt's arm. “Lay on, MacDuff. The sooner we get down there the sooner we can leave.”

“That's the spirit,” Matt says, wry, and grabs their keycards and wallets from the table as they head out of the room.

*

By the time they get downstairs, the hotel's conference room is full of familiar faces, streamers, balloons, and the omnipresent smell of alcohol. Meg is nowhere to be seen, but she's been there for at least fifteen minutes, so she's probably pretty swallowed by the crowd.

Unfortunately, the first person he sees is Stephanie Wallis, who is indeed startlingly dark-haired and also still unfairly pretty, and possibly pregnant, which means there's got to be a trophy husband around somewhere. Foggy is not off to a great start, and it doesn't improve much when she immediately says “Oh, it's Foggy! I guess you probably go by Franklin now.”

There's a table full of picked-over name tags, complete with everyone's terrible senior yearbook photos, and sure enough, his says Franklin. He's not even going to think about the picture. “No, I don't, as I am not yet anyone's grandfather. Still Foggy. Hi, Stephanie.”

“Hm.” Stephanie looks over his shoulder and immediately perks up. “Hello, didn't see you there. I'm afraid I don't remember you.”

“You wouldn't,” says Matt, stepping up and resting his hand on Foggy's shoulder while Foggy puts on his own name tag and finds the one that says _MATTHEW MURDOCK: I didn't go here!_ on it to hand him. “I'm here with Foggy.” His hand slips down between Foggy's shoulder blades and Foggy tries very hard not to freeze. That's not normal guiding-around behavior. “And we should go find his cousin, I'm told it could be a matter of life or death.”

Stephanie looks at them with the same pursed lips Foggy remembers from sophomore bio when they got assigned as lab partners. He thinks his teacher was trying to do some sort of social experiment with popular kids and unpopular ones, but it mostly ended up being awkward and uncomfortable. “Of course. Meg and her husband got here about half an hour ago. She said you'd come together.”

“We were in our room,” says Matt, and when Foggy gives him a sideways look he's wearing a mild smile that makes him look like he wants to punch something or like he's coming up with some kind of terrible plan. The latter becomes significantly more likely when he turns to Foggy and starts “I don't think you've mentioned—”

“Thanks, Stephanie, hope you get to enjoy the party,” Foggy blurts before Matt can continue, and drags him through the door. “Do I need to make you conversation cards? Do not brag about me unless it's already clear I'm winning, do not emotionally destroy people unless they give you good reason.”

Matt frowns at him. “I don't like her. _You_ don't like her.”

“And after tonight I will never see her again. I'm trying to be zen. I hate that you force me to be zen when you start getting your hackles up.”

Now Matt just looks sorry, and it occurs to Foggy that his hand is still on Foggy's back, which continues to not be their usual leading arrangement. “I'm sorry. I should be more supportive, but I don't … I'll be better.”

Foggy wants to ask about that cut-off sentence, but they're about four feet away from a vaguely familiar woman with a huge toothy smile and a really impressive dress. She looks like a news anchor, and she says “Foggy Nelson!” in tones of great triumph after a few seconds of squinting at his name tag. “Look at you!”

It takes Foggy a second to get a discreet look at her name tag. “Kelly,” he says, a lot more lukewarm, and feels Matt's hand tighten around the cloth of his suit. He's going to have some really weird wrinkles to iron out.

“You look like you've done pretty well for yourself.” That's some really unflattering surprise, and Foggy has to hide a sigh when her eyebrows go up at the sight of Matt right there in his personal space. “Very well for yourself. Your boyfriend?”

“Partner,” Matt corrects, and he's got the bad smile on his face again, the one he gets right before he suckers someone into losing. “Sorry, I'm having trouble placing you. Should I know who you are?” He turns to Foggy, head tilted. “Foggy, have you mentioned her?”

Matt knows very well that he has not, because Foggy has talked more about high school since he got his invitation than he has since they met. “I don't think so. We had AP History together.” And she cheated off his test answers and tried to tell the teacher he was the one who copied her until their seats got moved, and after she got in trouble she and all her friends glared at him whenever they saw him. “Anyway, Kelly, what are you doing these days?”

“Working in the news in Connecticut,” she tells him, straightening up and smiling the toothpaste-ad smile. He was definitely right about the first assumption. “And my fiance is around here somewhere, I think he went to get drinks.”

“Foggy and I are lawyers,” Matt says, and his hand is still steady on Foggy's back. “If you work in the news and you follow stories from the city at all, you might have heard about him. Our firm was involved in Wilson Fisk being put behind bars.”

“Oh.” Kelly looks taken aback. “I didn't realize. I thought you were … God, what even was it. The butcher thing! I thought you were doing that.”

Matt leans into him even more, and he's still smiling. “He would have been wasted as a butcher. I knew that the first time I heard him debate in law school.”

Foggy tries not to look too surprised about that. Matt's a pretty terrible liar (if a great omitter), and that sounded sincere. Which it probably is, Matt wouldn't be his partner if he didn't think he's a good lawyer, but the first time Foggy debated in one of their shared classes was about two weeks in, with a professor who liked throwing first-years into uncomfortable situations, and it was against Matt. “He says that because I beat him, so I have to be great to allow his ego to remain large enough to sustain him.”

“He beat everyone.” Matt's smile is less dangerous and more fond now. Which is its own kind of dangerous, really. “So I'm very glad he decided against being a butcher after all. I never would have met him.”

Kelly now has the same expression on her face that most people get when people start taking out pictures of their grandchildren and cats. “Well, that's very sweet. Good for you, Foggy. I'll have to remember you're a lawyer if I ever need legal counsel in New York. Ha.”

“Just look us up, we're Nelson and Murdock, it should be easy to find us,” says Matt. “Pleasure to meet you, Kelly. Foggy, should we go find Meg?”

“Yes, we definitely should.” Keeping Matt away from everyone but Meg and Jeff is rapidly becoming a priority. Foggy is pretty sure his ears are pink and that Kelly has completely the wrong idea. “Nice to see you again, Kelly.”

“You too,” she says, blatantly insincere, and Foggy leads Matt away.

There's a little gap in the crowd around them, and it's enough space to let Foggy recollect himself, figure out what the hell Matt's deal is. It's probably got something to do with making people think Foggy's won the reunion, but he's still acting way more affectionate than usual. And he said “partner,” but he didn't say “business.”

Foggy can put two and two together, and in this case “four” is Matt pretending they're together because he thinks it will make Foggy's former classmates think he's cooler. Depressingly, he's probably right, but that doesn't mean Foggy is relishing the thought of being on a pity date with his best friend. He sighs. “Matt, are you ...”

Matt tilts his head. He's still in Foggy's space, hand still steady on him, barely using his cane at all, and he's just in the right place that if they were actually together Foggy would barely have to lean at all to kiss him. “Hm?”

“Never mind. Let's go find Meg, or she'll text me until she sees me.”

“Of course,” says Matt, and slides his hand down to the small of Foggy's back.

*

“You finally made it! What were you two doing up there? Tell me you weren't working.”

“We weren't working,” Foggy says, rolling his eyes at Meg and finally managing to twist his way away from Matt's hand to shake hands with the friend she's standing with, a girl he thinks he recognizes from Meg's birthday parties. Jeff is a few feet away, leaning on the bar and staring off into space, probably thinking about engineering. Or murdering Joey, who Foggy hasn't seen yet. “We got distracted and then we have been waylaid several times by people suffering from nostalgia.”

“I'm not sure how I feel about your graduating class,” says Matt, frowning like he hasn't already made that clear.

“Yes you are, you hate them,” says Foggy, and makes an apologetic grimace at Meg's friend. Beth, maybe? She has her name tag on her purse, which isn't facing him directly, there's no help there. “Be nice anyway, you're getting weird about things.”

“Am I—”

Matt stops when Meg clears her throat. “If you two need to have a private conversation, have it privately. Beth and I aren't going anywhere, this is where the alcohol is.”

At least Foggy's right about her name being Beth. That's small comfort when Matt is looking at him with the worried notch between his eyebrows, so Foggy sighs and grabs Matt's arm. “We will be right back. Apparently. Come on, Matt.”

Matt follows, and it's the normal way this time, just connected arm to arm, until Foggy finds a fairly empty wall and pulls them to stop. “I'm sorry,” Matt says immediately, low and serious. “I'm making you uncomfortable.”

“I'm not sure what you're doing. I mean, pretending to be my boyfriend, I get that, I just don't know where that came from because I'm pretty sure we didn't discuss it.”

“When Stephanie assumed, her breathing changed. I think she was backing off. It might make your night easier.”

Foggy sighs. “So you are pretending to date me to make my night easier? I think that sums up exactly how pitiful my high school experience was.”

Matt makes an upset noise and shakes his head. “I'm not pitying you. I just … none of them seems to realize how good you are, and they should. If it helps to lie a little so they understand, I don't mind.”

It takes Foggy way too long to collect himself to answer that, because it's such Matt logic. “Fuck them, Matt, honestly. I appreciate that you want them to understand my awesome, but you don't have to do this.”

“I'll stop if you want, but it's the assumption they're making. Do you think explaining me away for the whole night is going to get old?”

Foggy would say yes, if Karen was the one offering. And if he were less in love with Matt, he probably would have asked him the second Matt offered to come with him. As it is, Matt is being very nice, and Foggy is going to end this night miserable after pretending to date him instead of actually dating him. That doesn't mean he's going to say no, though. Foggy's self-preservation instincts are not great around Matt. “Honestly I'm kind of honored that everyone thinks you're in my league. Though maybe they think I suckered you into it because you're blind?”

It's a joke, and Matt's got to know that, but his expression goes stormy anyway. “If anyone implies it, I'll correct them.”

“Our plan is to get out of this night without you being charged for assault and without me having any traumatic high school-related flashbacks. Don't correct them with your fists. Promise.”

Matt frowns. “I promise. I wouldn't make a scene. I'm here for you.”

“Okay. That's … not totally the same as promising not to punch people, but we'll go with it. Honestly, I need to get you a leash. But if there are no fists and as long as you don't overplay it, we just won't correct people's assumptions.”

Once again, Matt frowns, but this isn't one of the dangerous ones. “I won't overplay it.”

“Please. You're lucky the courtroom and certain other things you do are at least fifty percent theatrics, because you _always_ overplay things. Now, let's go talk to Meg and Jeff and Beth until I gear up my courage to make the duty round.”

Matt's hand returns to his back, which makes a lot more sense now that Foggy realizes what his game is. “Fine. Just warn me before I'm introduced to Benny Rosenbaum, I can stop or I can play it up depending.”

“You are actually the worst,” says Foggy, but he starts walking back to the bar. If nothing else, a beer or two is really going to make this whole pretending to date Matt thing much easier to deal with.

*

“Okay,” Foggy says when he's halfway down his second bottle of beer and he's tired of feeling like a third wheel in Meg's conversation. “Matt and I are going to wander and see if there's anyone bearable around. Text me if you need Joey-related rescue.”

“I will punch him,” says Beth, a few drinks farther than he is and heartwarmingly defensive of Meg. At least some people from high school don't suck.

“Great, Meg probably has one of my business cards, let us know if you need legal representation,” Foggy says, and tows Matt away. He can really only worry about so much potential violence tonight, and Matt's the bigger risk. Jeff waves him off from where he's still standing sentinel, and Foggy turns away from them and lowers his voice when he leans into Matt. “Keep an ear out for some guy harassing Meg, because murder may be done. Hearing anything else interesting?”

“Two women were trying to figure out if I was an escort,” Matt offers. “I think one of them was Kelly, it was hard to pick out at that distance.”

Foggy grits his teeth and reminds himself that he's keeping a sense of humor about this, so help him God. “I think I've seen that movie.”

“I can't believe they treated you so badly.”

“Matt. I was chubby and awkward and mouthy and fairly poor and bisexual. I can't believe I _survived_.” Matt's hand tightens on his jacket again. So much ironing. “You said it was rough for you, and I am just as annoyed, but there really isn't anything to do about that anymore. We're here to rub my success in their faces tonight, not get mad about how they treated me then.”

“Foggy Nelson!” says another almost-stranger, and Foggy is really glad to be interrupted by someone he probably hates. The name tag says Jake Fiore—one of the wrestling guys, friends with Conrad Whittier, who's probably the closest thing to a nemesis Foggy had in high school. “Man, it's good to see you, I was afraid you weren't coming.”

That is a really weird thing to say, especially since he seems completely sincere. “Jake, hi. It's … good to see you too.”

Jake just laughs and shakes his head. “Probably it's not, but thanks. I kind of kept tabs—Facebook and shit, you know? You're still in the city? Last I heard you were doing law school.”

“Still in the city. We have our own practice. Speaking of which.” He gestures at Matt. “Matt, Jake Fiore, Jake, this is Matt Murdock, he's my partner, and Matt, Jake is … I've got no clue. Sorry, Jake. What are you up to these days?”

“Got out of the army just in time to avoid having to hunt down SHIELD fugitives, and I've been working at my mom's store.” Jake shrugs. “Nothing too exciting. Glad you're doing good, though! Your own practice, that's pretty impressive.”

“He's very impressive,” says Matt, but it isn't pointed like it was with Kelly. He looks as baffled as Foggy feels, which is good. Foggy feels a little like he's in the Twilight Zone, with Jake Fiore being nice to him. “Were you two friends?”

Jake actually laughs. “Nah, I was an asshole of a kid and probably would have deserved it if Foggy punched me in the nose when I said hello. Thanks for not doing that, by the way. I like my nose.”

There, right on cue, is Matt's hand clenching again. Foggy is going to buy him so many stress balls. “It's a very fine nose, I'm sure. Are you still friends with Conrad and them?”

“Not really. Mostly they didn't take it so hot when I came out.” He gives Foggy a sideways look and Matt twitches and Foggy has no idea what to do with any of that. “But they're around tonight, or most of them are. I think Danny Jasperson brought an escort, between you and me.”

Foggy laughs, because it's that or actually ask what's going on and if anyone is possessed by aliens, because it's a whole new world and that's probably possible. “I will try really hard not to run into him, then. Look, Matt and I are on a duty round, but … it's good to see you, I guess? Thanks for checking in. Look up Nelson and Murdock in the directory if you ever need legal assistance.”

Jake laughs again and holds out his hand to shake, waiting while Foggy disentangles himself from Matt to shake it. “Maybe I will. Find a business card for me, hand it over if I see you again tonight, I'll look you up.”

“Great.”

“Yeah.” Jake jerks a nod at Matt, who has been very quiet for this whole conversation and doesn't even look like he wants to kill anyone. “I'm glad things worked out for you, Foggy. That you've got the lawyer thing and—sorry, everyone's names. Matt, right?”

“Right,” says Matt. “He certainly deserves everything good.”

“Oh, hey, I think I see Jasperson, so I'm going to be anywhere but where he is,” blurts Foggy, because he has no clue what to do with any of this and fleeing the field of battle seems like the best option. People who were assholes to him in high school being nice and subtly coming out to him are way weirder than people who still hate him.

Jake waves them off, so Foggy tows Matt away and searches for a free space in the crowd. It's getting bigger—he and Matt clearly weren't the last people to arrive, no matter how annoyed Meg was. She's just always early to everything.

“He's attracted to you,” Matt hisses when they're a few yards away, sounding accusatory.

“Believe it or not, I did not need freaky heartbeat senses to figure that out. This kind of thing does not happen to people.”

“He bullied you in high school and he's _attracted_ to you,” Matt says, and now he sounds like he wants to kill someone again. It's strangely soothing. Foggy is going to have to work out the psychological ramifications of finding Matt's murderous impulses charming later, this is not the time or the place. “I don't … and you don't mind. Should I have told him we aren't together?”

Foggy stumbles, which means Matt stumbles, and then Foggy is staring at Matt and Matt's face is tilted down at the floor like he's expecting to be scolded. “Okay, first of all, I am not going to date Jake Fiore, are you kidding me? I haven't spoken to him in ten years and I am fine with that, even if he's been thinking of me fondly. Which he totally should, it's a little bit nice that he's been feeling guilty on my behalf. And second of all, kids are dicks. I understand that. Probably half the people here who ignored me or whatever are not objectively awful people. Teenagers are just terrible.”

“You weren't.”

Foggy laughs. “Come on, buddy, you know that's not true. My mom showed you my growing-up scrapbooks. I was an asshole. I just didn't have the social credit to take it out on other people.”

Matt's still frowning and definitely doesn't agree, and Foggy suspects he's going to be subjected to at least one speech in the next week about how Foggy was definitely less of an asshole than these people, but he doesn't argue, just tilts his head. “They're refreshing the appetizers. Let's go get some before they're all gone.”

“I knew you're good for something,” says Foggy, putting Matt's hand in the crook of his arm in hopes of saving his suit from permanent creases, and walks them over to the refreshment tables.

*

The snacks actually aren't bad—even Matt deigns to eat some without making faces, and Matt can be a fairly picky eater sometimes. It's a reprieve, too. About half the people around the tables look vaguely familiar, and they squint at him like maybe they think he's familiar too, but they didn't interact enough that they care about each other, and Foggy finds that being forgotten is kind of comforting, especially after everything being so weird with Jake.

Matt relaxes a little too, now that people don't keep surprising them being either terrible or much better than expected. “I really don't think I want to go to mine, if it happens,” says Matt, when the third terrible song in a row starts playing and Foggy is starting to wonder if he should go find Meg again, if only because he could use a refresher on a beer.

“Oh no, if we suffer through mine, we suffer through yours, no shirking. I probably won't even need to pity date you, you're a hotter commodity on your own.”

Matt fumbles the appetizer he's trying to eat and then catches it when he shouldn't be able to, which actually tells Foggy a lot more about how rattled he suddenly is. “Pity d—pity? Foggy, what?”

“Oh, hi!” Foggy tells the nearest person who looks familiar, way too enthusiastic, and nearly has a heart attack when the nearest person who looks familiar turns out to be Benny Rosenbaum. He's done something terrible in a past life. It's the only explanation. “Oh, Jesus, hi, sorry, I just saw you were familiar, I probably would have been way cooler about that if I realized it was you.”

Benny laughs and shifts his snacks to one hand so he can shake Foggy's. He looks good, all settled and mature and wedding-ringed. He isn't even going bald. There is no God. “Foggy, it's good to see you! I forgot to ask on Facebook if you were coming, I was hoping you'd show up. You must be pretty busy, with your own practice.”

“Sounds like you're pretty busy at work too,” says Foggy, since it seems pretty safe, and then jumps a little when Matt taps his arm. “Sorry, I'm being rude. Matt, this is Benjamin Rosenbaum.” And there goes his sleeve needing ironing. Matt is just lucky that Foggy is the ironing master. “Benny—sorry, you're probably Ben or Benjamin now. Anyway, this is Matt Murdock, he's my partner.”

“Hey man, great to meet you. And Ben is fine. My wife's around the party somewhere, she's just on the phone with her sister since she has the kid tonight.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” says Matt. He's still juggling an appetizer in one hand and has the other on Foggy's jacket, so he doesn't stick out his hand to shake. Probably for the best. He doesn't look too pleased and Foggy suspects he's going to get a really earnest lecture later about how doing things for his best friend doesn't translate to pity. “Foggy's mentioned you.”

Benny—Ben, Foggy should do better about that—grins at Foggy. “Did you? I'm honored. I think I've seen you mentioned in his posts a time or two. I should have realized he would bring you. How long have you two been together?”

“We got assigned as roommates, first year of law school.” Matt takes a bite of his appetizer.

Ben raises his eyebrows. “That long?”

Foggy shakes his head. “No, took us a while to get used to each other and get our acts together. We only decided to do the big official commitment stuff six months ago or so.” Nelson and Murdock counts as official commitment stuff. Matt's the one who said it was like they were getting married, even if he was joking. It's the closest he can get to not lying.

“Well, congratulations! I've been married a few years now, it's good.”

“Tell me all about it, man.” Listening to Ben's life story is a lot safer than trying to come up with lies on the fly with Matt.

Ben talks a lot about accounting and his wife and the baby, who's apparently four months old now. Foggy makes the appropriate cooing noises over the pictures and describes them all to Matt, since Matt is a sucker for kids. Matt doesn't quite relax, but he doesn't actively scowl or say anything polite that actually means he's looking for excuses to eviscerate anyone.

It's kind of nice. Reassuring, almost. His high school was not filled with monsters and teen movie characters. This is probably how most people's high school reunions go, exchanging mildly boring stories with people they haven't thought much about in years.

It's also really boring, and Foggy feels mildly embarrassed about his teenage self's taste. His teenage self's taste is apparently a lot less dangerous than his current self's, but at least he's never bored around Matt.

“What about you two?” Ben asks, at the tail end of a story about the baby, and Foggy gets abruptly less bored. “Planning to have kids?”

“No,” says Foggy, way too fast, and tries not to wince when Matt flinches and Ben raises his eyebrows. “We both work way too much at this point, and we're going to have to keep doing it until the firm's on its feet. Kids aren't a good plan right now.”

“I'd like to adopt someday,” Matt says, shuffling around in the way that usually means he's embarrassed and probably not lying. Foggy kind of wants to ask if he's planning to give up the Daredevil thing when he has a kid, but that would be way more cruel than he wants to be tonight. “But Foggy is right, we're nowhere near ready for that.”

“Anyway, that got really heavy.” Foggy makes a show of checking his phone. “And we should check in with Meg to make sure murder hasn't been done. It was good to run into you, Ben. I'll look forward to seeing more pictures of the kid on Facebook. Look us up if you're ever in the city.”

“Of course!” Ben shakes his hand again. “I should go find Pat anyway, she probably got cornered by Stephanie or something. Nice to see you, Foggy—and nice to meet you, Matt.”

“It's a pleasure,” says Matt, and he even sounds like he's not totally lying.

Foggy grabs a few more appetizers and drags Matt away from the table, looking for a clear space in the crowd, which seems to have become significantly drunker while they were distracted talking to his high school crush. “Well, that was fun,” he says when Matt has not-very-subtly nudged him in the direction of a free patch of wall, near a potted tree so they can lurk a little.

“He's not attracted to you,” Matt says, and he sounds huffy about it.

If Foggy were not invested in keeping the remaining few sips of his beer safe, he would throw his hands up in exasperation. “You're mad because Jake is attracted to me and you're mad because Benny isn't. Could you at least try to be consistent? For me?”

Matt scowls off into space. “You didn't want Jake to be attracted to you.”

“And I didn't want Benny to be either.” Matt shakes his head, and Foggy sighs. “Listen to me, Matt, am I lying? I don't want Benny to be attracted to me. He has a wife, and I have not had a sex dream about him in like nine years. I had a crush on him in high school. That doesn't mean I have one now. Honestly, it was more awkward than anything else to spend time with him.”

“But—”

“Quit it.” Foggy finishes off his beer, because he needs to take a second to collect himself. “What is up with you, Matty? You were the one who wanted me to come to this thing in the first place, and now you're being weird about it.”

Matt keeps scowling. “You called it pity dating. Before you started talking to him. I told you earlier that it isn't. But if we try to explain each other away, it's going to sound like we're ashamed, and I'm not. So I'm fine being your boyfriend tonight.”

“That's … okay, we will come back to that, because that isn't what I asked. Why are you being so weird about my classmates? I told you it was going to suck.”

“I shouldn't have made you come.”

Great. Good old-fashioned guilt. Foggy knows how to deal with that where Matt is concerned. “Meg made me come, for the record. Meg and my mom. You just offered to come and help.”

“I'm not helping. I'm upsetting you.”

“Hey.” Foggy puts his empty bottle down next to the tree and promises himself that he's going to leave a really great tip for housekeeping when he checks out. “You aren't upsetting me. It's just a really weird night and part of that includes you being weird. And pretending to date me. You didn't get the urge to do that when I saw Marci after we broke up for the first time.”

“Marci already realized that you're special. They don't.” Matt gestures around at the room at large.

Foggy stares at him for a second, and sometimes he loves Matt so much it's overwhelming. Mostly it's the same way he loves his mother—sure, he loves her all the time, but he doesn't think about it every minute of every day. Sometimes there's a surge, though, and these days with Matt it's worse because he can probably smell fondness or something. “Jesus, Matt. I don't actually care what they think.”

“Yes, you do. You keep talking about winning the reunion.”

“And it's stressing you out that I'm so obviously not.” He puts his hand on Matt's arm. “Just listen to me, okay? I want these people to think I'm cool, yes, because I got talked into coming here and it would suck to come and feel like a loser, but I really don't care about them anymore. I care what you think, what Karen thinks, what my family thinks, and what our clients think. And possibly what Captain America thinks, if you ever bring him home like the proverbial cat with mice. That's about it.”

“I'm not going to bring Captain America home, Foggy,” says Matt, but he sounds a little choked up. “Okay. If you're sure. I just want … you deserve …”

“Yeah, I deserve the revenge fantasy every lonely nerd has about school reunions, but I've got you, and in about ten minutes I'm going to have another beer and we'll see if we can find the inevitable classmate who will be shocked by us both being guys and have some fun.”

“If you're sure,” Matt says, but his face is lightening and when Foggy offers his arm, he takes it.

*

The reunion is a little easier to deal with after that. Foggy mostly sticks to talking to people who weren't friends with him but also who weren't complete dicks, and Matt is polite and very rarely stops touching him, and Meg texts every once in a while, increasingly tipsy, to update him on the Joe situation (Foggy is about ninety percent certain Joe is not actually here, which he will be grateful about forever). Foggy is even willing to say that it's not in his top ten bad nights, though Matt's extra-professional activities kind of skew that.

Foggy should really know better than to jinx himself.

Matt excuses himself to the bathroom when Foggy is just starting to get tired, and Foggy lurks around the door because Matt _could_ find him again in the crowd, but he would look like an asshole making his blind friend chase him around and he would probably be an asshole, supersenses notwithstanding.

Of course, that means he's standing outside the bathroom door like a creep when Conrad Whittier comes out, looking a beer or two for the worse. Foggy isn't ashamed to say that he backs up against the wall, hoping to avoid anything, but Conrad always had the really unpleasant ability to tell when Foggy didn't want to deal with him, and he looks over and then starts grinning. It's not a nice grin.

“Oh my God, Frank!”

There's a reason he didn't switch over to Frank when he went to college and people he hadn't known his whole life started giving him weird looks when he introduced himself. “Wow. Conrad. Hi.”

“Hanging out like it's the old locker room?” Conrad's suit is disgustingly nice. Foggy hates him. “Should have known.”

“Waiting for my guest, actually. I spent as little time as humanly possible in the locker room.”

Conrad laughs. It's not a nice laugh, either. “Yeah, you were never sporty. What are you up to?” He gives Foggy a look like it can't be anything very impressive and Foggy reminds himself that he got worse at Landman and Zack every day. Conrad just presses his buttons because Foggy has been feeling fifteen years old all night. “I'm CFO at a software development company, you might have heard of us.”

Foggy is a lawyer. He knows that kind of verbal trap. If he has heard of them, Conrad is important. If he hasn't, Foggy is ignorant. He opts for option number three. “A CFO? Good for you. I'm a partner at my law firm. We're a start-up, small but mighty. In the spirit of the neighborhood.” He hopes Matt hears that. “I was corporate for a while, but it seemed pretty soulless.”

Conrad Whittier does not have a soul, probably. He just laughs it off. “Start-ups, huh? Good luck with that. Hard to keep a business going in the city, much less a law firm. Hard to imagine you as a lawyer, too.”

“You don't have a very good imagination,” says Matt from the bathroom door, and there's the dangerous smile again. Foggy actually appreciates it this time. “Foggy is the best lawyer I know. I wouldn't have gone into business with him otherwise.”

The incredulity is really unflattering, and Foggy realizes too late that Conrad is going to be an asshole about the blind thing. “Well, you wouldn't know if there was better around, probably.”

Matt laughs. Foggy is pretty sure that's what people hear just before the sound of all of their ribs snapping. “I listen.”

“Guess you lucked out,” Conrad tells Foggy.

“No, that would be me.” There's some looming going on. Foggy is going to be really surprised if this conversation manages to finish without someone getting punched. Probably Conrad. “Anyone would be lucky to hire him, and Landman and Zack was certainly sorry to lose him.”

Conrad rolls his eyes at Foggy. “Yeah, I get it, your boyfriend is impressed with you. You _really_ lucked out.”

“Didn't I?” says Foggy, because there's only so much arguing he can do outside of a courtroom before he gets sick of it. “It's almost like I worked really hard and surrounded myself with people who weren't assholes and somehow it means that I'm professionally and personally fulfilled. Did you bring a guest? I'd love to meet whatever poor woman married you.”

Conrad laughs, but he seems way less happy about it this time. Matt's smile looks less mild and more vindictive, which is either a good sign or a worrying one. “Can't tie me down.”

“Divorced? Sucks, man, I hear that's rough.” Foggy shifts over until he can get in arm's reach of Matt, and isn't totally surprised this time when Matt's hand lands on his back instead of his arm. “Good for her, though, I hope husband number two is significantly better.”

There's honest-to-God sputtering at that. Foggy has never been so proud. “What the fuck would you know?” he finally manages. “You aren't married.”

“No, not yet,” says Matt, and slides his hand up until he has a firm grip on Foggy's shoulder. “But he's an amazing partner, and an amazing person. Foggy, let's go find Meg.”

Conrad scoffs. It is definitely a scoff. “Congrats on finding the only blind idiot who could stand you, Frank.”

Matt drops his cane, and Foggy elbows him before he can do anything drastic that is going to get them sued for assault. “You are really sad,” says Foggy, because it seems to sum up this conversation. “You're stuck in high school and you really want to pretend a software job and a great suit are more important than whatever I'm doing, which you probably would have done if I were a senator, by the way. So, thanks for proving how pathetic you are, I guess? Now I'm going to find my cousin so Matt doesn't punch you in the face. Not that I care about your face, but I care about Matt.”

“Come on,” says Matt, all his attention on Foggy again instead of on beating people up.

Foggy picks up Matt's cane, because Matt really does not need to be groping around on the floor making Foggy look like a bad date, and when he straightens up Matt is glaring in Conrad's direction and Conrad is edging slowly away. Foggy can't blame him. Even with the sunglasses Matt's glare is really impressive. Also, he wouldn't put it past Matt to have mouthed something threatening. “Let's go,” he says, because at this point he doesn't care.

Matt is the one who steers him away, and Foggy takes a deep breath and reminds himself that he just spent less than five minutes of his life on that and that at least he has the comfort of knowing that Conrad Whittier is just as shitty a person as he always thought. “Are you okay?” Matt asks when they're fighting their way across the crowd again.

“Yeah. Worst of it's over with. And I'm not planning on staying too much longer anyway.”

Matt stops walking right there, and ignores the guy behind them who swears at him. “Are you ready to leave?”

Foggy opens his mouth to say no, they should stay another half hour, chat with Meg and Jeff and Beth, find at least one more friendly classmate to get the bad taste of the chat with Conrad out of their minds. He's tired, though, and Matt looks tired too, now that he's not getting ready to defend Foggy's honor. “Yeah. Yeah, Matt, let's go. I'll text Meg, if she complains tomorrow I'll just offer to pay for breakfast.”

“Meals are mine.”

“Okay, then you'll offer to pay for breakfast. Let's go find the weirdest possible thing to watch on cable until we fall asleep.”

“That sounds wonderful.” There's Matt's real smile. It's only taken most of the night to get there. “Let's go, then.”

Foggy has, after years of knowing Matt, just about worked out the strategy to walk and guide and text at the same time, and it's easier with Matt's hand on his back instead of tucked into his elbow. He missed a text from Meg telling him that she thinks Beth is being invited for a threesome with Graham Morton and his plus one, and he texts her back telling her to cheer Beth on for him and that he and Matt are leaving fashionably early.

They're quiet on the way to the elevator—they kind of have to be, considering the noise of the crowd—and Foggy sighs in relief and rolls his shoulders when they actually manage to snag the elevator without anyone else on it. He doesn't realize Matt thinks he might be dislodging him on purpose until Matt's hand drops and he moves a step away. “Thanks,” he says while the elevator dings and starts moving.

“You don't need to thank me.” Matt frowns. “I don't think I helped you win the reunion. I should have encouraged you to bring Karen instead.”

“No way. I definitely won the reunion.” Foggy turns to Matt, grins. Hopefully he can manage to get a smile out of Matt before the elevator stops, even if it's a short trip. “I've got you, don't I?”

He doesn't get a smile. Instead, right as the elevator stops and dings again, Matt searches out Foggy's face with his fingers and kisses him.

*

The most surprising thing, Foggy manages to think, is that it's actually their first kiss. There were dares and bets and stupid drinking games in law school, and Foggy knows he gets clingy when he's drunk, but they've never crossed the line, and now they are, in an elevator whose doors are slowly opening.

And shutting.

“Crap,” says Foggy, pulling away, and grabs Matt's arm when he looks horrified and already apologetic. “We need to get off this elevator. And into our room. And _then_ we will discuss this like rational adults.”

Foggy is feeling neither rational nor adult, but Matt has the panicked expression that means he wants to flee and they will not be fleeing anywhere fast if the elevator gets called back down to the lobby, so Foggy pushes the button to open the doors again and prods Matt out, both of them tripping over the cane because they seem to have spontaneously forgotten how to be next to each other.

“I'm so sorry,” says Matt, a horrified whisper, and Foggy just walks down the hall, fumbling his keycard out on the way, because he can't do this in a hotel hallway. He's not totally sure he can do it in a hotel room, because Matt _kissed him_ and that's somehow more surprising in private than it would have been at pretty much any point during the reunion.

Neither of them says anything while Foggy lets them into the hotel room, and Foggy occupies himself for a few seconds checking his texts and putting his phone and jacket down, loosening his tie. Matt stands in the doorway to the room, still clutching his cane, and Foggy sighs and turns to face him when he doesn't show any signs of moving. “So, you kissed me.”

“I shouldn't have.”

“Let's put questions of ethics aside for now and start with basic high school journalism.” Matt just looks confused, which is probably fair. Foggy feels a little hysterical and like he's not making much sense. “ _Why_ did you kiss me?”

After a second, Matt takes his glasses off, but it takes him almost a minute to say anything. Foggy wonders what his breathing and heartbeat sound like right now. Probably like he's about thirty seconds from a heart attack. “I don't understand,” he finally says, “how all those people tonight didn't realize how amazing you are.”

Foggy sighs and does them both the favor of not saying anything about pity again. It will just upset both of them. “People are stubborn, and I was an annoying kid, and you aren't answering the question.”

Matt finally leans his cane against the wall, and he spreads his hands out, the more sincere version of the asshole search-me gesture he does when he's playing innocent. “I'm doing the best I can. You're wonderful, and none of them understood it, and I thought you would be upset, but you weren't.”

“Because I have you,” Foggy says slowly, and he can see the way it makes Matt shiver this time. He takes a step forward. “And you kissed me because you matter more to me than they do?”

“I wanted to.”

That's something. Foggy takes another step. “Why did you decide pretending to be my boyfriend for the night was a good plan?”

Matt swallows. “I wanted to.” This time it's a whisper. 

Foggy wants to keep asking, to keep teasing answers out of Matt, but he knows enough to know that Matt is taking all the risks, here. Sure, he can hear Foggy's heartbeat, but that's not admissible in a court of law. Verbal testimony, however, is. “I don't mind that you kissed me. At all. You've got this look on your face like you think I'll send you to sleep in Meg and Jeff's room and never speak to you again, and that's not what's happening.”

“What is happening?”

“That's what I'm trying to figure out.” He steps forward again. If either one of them reaches out, now, they're going to be able to touch each other. Foggy tries to convince himself that's a good thing. “I want to make sure that you kissed me because you _have_ wanted to, and not just because I'm an awesome person and the assholes I went to school with don't realize it.”

“That's one of the reasons. It isn't the only reason.”

“Would you like it if I kissed you again? As a habitual action, with intent for it to change our relationship?”

Matt's mouth quirks. “This isn't a prosecutable crime, counselor.”

“I am trying to give you really big signals here. Do you want to maybe give me something back?”

Matt kisses him, which Foggy decides is a definitive answer. He manages to kiss back this time, instead of standing frozen in shock, which is a bonus, and kisses Matt again when they have to pull away for air. Matt's just as good at kissing as Foggy has already suspected, from the way he'd always come from from dates pink-cheeked and pleased with himself.

“I've wanted to kiss you,” Matt says into his mouth, which is a really compelling argument when their lips are this close. “This isn't just tonight. I'm not jealous, I don't pity you. You're my partner. I would like you to be in every sense of the word.”

“So you're telling me I shouldn't call Jake Fiore,” Foggy says, just to make Matt scowl, and he gets a kiss instead, which is really an improvement. He's going to have to be an asshole more often, if this is the kind of result it gets him. “Hey. You know I'm crazy about you, right? Heartbeats and stuff.”

“I tried not to pay attention. Bias.” Matt tips their heads until he's leaning his forehead against Foggy's. “You too.”

Foggy wants to crack a joke about how unromantic that is, but he and Matt aren't romantic people. He's getting everything he needs from the warmth in Matt's voice and how close they are and the little helpless smile Matt can't seem to help whenever his lips aren't otherwise occupied. “Benny Rosenbaum, eat your heart out,” he says, because he can't be completely serious when he feels this giddy, and grins when Matt laughs, then snorts, joining in because he can't help it.

Both of them stop when Matt grabs his tie, face suddenly serious. “I'm very sorry.” Foggy makes a questioning noise. “You payed for two beds in this hotel room, but I think we're only going to use one.”

“Oh ye of little faith. The second one's for sleeping on,” he says, and when Matt laughs again, he grabs his hand and tugs him over to the first bed to get started.

Foggy is definitely winning this reunion.

*

Foggy feels like they're being obvious when they meet Meg in the lobby in the morning, but Meg is practically psychic and she doesn't blink an eye. Foggy is pretty sure it would be her cousinly duty to tease him about an embarrassing amount of pining coming to fruition if she guesses, but apparently there's nothing weird about the two of them with their heads bent together arguing over the hotel bill and whether Matt should get to take Foggy out for breakfast because he's been cheated out of his portion of the expenses.

“I'm glad to see that nobody ended the night in jail,” Foggy says when Meg greets him with a kiss on the cheek and a complaint that he left so early. “Did Beth end up having that threesome?”

“I don't know, nor do I want to, and no, Joe didn't show up. It was almost anticlimactic. Jake Fiore found us, he waxed rhapsodic.”

Matt looks abruptly murderous. “Did he?”

“Cool your jets, Murdock, he didn't ask for Foggy's number or anything. I think it's hilarious.”

“I really do not,” says Foggy, and Jeff nudges Meg with his elbow, because he is a really nice guy behind all the boring. “Hey, Matt's making noises about us going for breakfast, but I hate hotel restaurants. Do you guys know anywhere in easy walking distance so we don't have to park twice?”

Meg doesn't give them a suspicious look as Matt slides his hand into Foggy's already-crooked elbow and gets his cane ready, but Jeff does, which is surprising. It's possible Foggy shouldn't underestimate him. All he says, though, is “I think there's a bakery fairly close, if you don't mind pastry for breakfast.”

“When have I ever objected to pastry? Lead the way.”

They don't hold hands. Foggy has kind of wondered, over the years, if holding hands is a valid strategy for leading the blind, but he's used to the way Matt's hand fits against his arm, and Matt is holding on more firmly than usual, like he wants the usual contact to be something different too. It's a pretty good start.

Breakfast is full of stories. It turns out debriefing from the reunion is way more fun than going to it in the first place, because Meg has no trouble being mean with him, which Jeff and Matt both seem more than willing to listen to and even sometimes join in on. Though Matt is really unfair on Ben Rosenbaum and Jake Fiore, which Foggy is going to have to tease him for later.

“Meredith said that she saw you two with Conrad Whittier,” Meg says at some point through a mouthful of pancake, and Matt instantly goes tense as a wire.

“Matt didn't kill him, I'm very proud.” That's actually less funny now that Foggy knows Matt does pretty much everything short of kill people. It's especially less funny when Matt looks like he's going to snap his fork in half. “And I never have to see him again, since he's going to die in some really karmic way I won't have to feel bad about before the twenty-fifth reunion, so that's the last time we ever have to deal with him.” He elbows Matt. “You aren't going to make me go to the twenty-fifth, right?”

“Probably not,” says Matt. “I've learned plenty about how your high school was, I don't need to spend another night with those people.”

Meg laughs and changes the subject to debating who actually won the reunion (probably the middle-of-the-road student who seems to have an incipient telecommunications empire), which lasts them all the way through the bill, which Matt pays over Meg's objections, and then all the way to the car. It probably wouldn't last that long except that Matt tries to make a valiant and misguided attempt to convince them all that Foggy won, which is blatantly false except in the cheesy won-the-guy sense.

Matt falls asleep in the car. Sometimes they put him to sleep, and sometime Foggy's going to have to ask him if that's a senses thing or just normal human car sleepiness, but for the moment he lowers his voice to talk to Jeff about the next Nelson family meet-up for Nana's birthday and what they should bring for the pot luck portion of the evening. Matt tips over on top of him halfway through the drive, tucking his face into Foggy's shoulder, but that's actually pretty normal. Which should probably give Foggy a few clues about their relationship, come to that.

Jeff drives them to Foggy's apartment, and Foggy wakes Matt up with a purposeful nudge. “Hey, we're home, let's get our bags out of the back and get upstairs, okay? You can go back to yours later.” Since Matt will probably want to go punch criminals in the face to celebrate his new relationship or something.

Matt smiles at him so bright Foggy feels like blushing even though it's the same damn grin Matt's been giving him for years now. “Sure, I'll stay for a while. Maybe we can have some lunch.”

“Sure, lunch.” He lets Matt get out of the car and leans forward to get a hug from Meg and a slap on the back from Jeff. “I'll call you guys about Nana's party, I feel like the grandkids should probably all get together and buy something good for her this year.”

It only takes another minute to get out of the car, and when Foggy gets out Matt's waiting on the sidewalk, already reaching out to take his arm even though he definitely does not need guiding to get into Foggy's building from less than twenty feet from the front door.

Foggy gets a text from Meg when he's halfway up the steps, and almost falls down the stairs when he reads it and can't stop laughing. “Meg says,” he says when he can manage the words, “that we've got forty-eight hours of honeymoon period before she tells my mom so we'd better take advantage of it.”

Matt laughs too, the big one that means he really thinks it's funny, and only stops himself to cut Foggy off with a kiss. “Let's go to your apartment, then,” he says, quiet, once he's pulled away and Foggy is shocked silent, still not used to doing that. “And you can bargain for a full week and the right to tell your mother yourself later on. Deal?”

Foggy kisses him again, just because he can. “Deal.”

*

“Matt, you've got some mail from a church, I think,” Karen says during mail call a few weeks later. “They actually wrote your name out in braille above the letters on the address in pen, which is … a sweet gesture? I guess? Probably not a very useful one.”

Foggy comes out of his office just in time to catch Matt's completely horrified expression, which is golden. “Want me to read it for you, Matt? I really doubt the interior is braille either.”

“It's probably a charity request,” says Matt, looking uneasy, but Foggy has his number now, and Karen must be getting it, because she's got her hand over her mouth holding back her snickering the same way she's been doing in the office ever since Foggy and Matt got back from Foggy's reunion and started trying to figure out how to be boyfriends. It takes Matt under ten seconds to sigh. He's hilarious when he gets huffy. “Fine, read it.”

Foggy snatches the envelope out of Karen's hands and clears his throat while he tears open the envelope. He doesn't recognize the name of the sender, but it looks sufficiently Catholic that he's got his suspicions. “Dear Matthew—it's a form letter, by the way, there isn't even any clip-art like there was on mine—you're cordially invited to your class reunion, dates and times, RSVP numbers, we're really looking forward to seeing you and reconnecting, please RSVP by the fifteenth of this month, send any current pictures of yourself that you'd like, please feel free to bring a guest. You know, the usual. I can read you the stuff about school pride later if you want. Oh, hey, handwritten note at the bottom! Weird gesture. Anyway, someone named Margaret Donaldson wants you to know that they've made sure that service dogs are allowed in the chosen venue.”

“We don't have to go,” Matt says, without much hope. He's already got to know what way the wind is blowing. “We've already been to one reunion in the past month.”

“Yeah, but these are _your_ assholes from the past. Aren't you going to let me go along so I can tell them all how great a lawyer you are and how lucky you are to have me as your boyfriend? You're totally winning this reunion, I'm excited for you.”

Matt laughs and shakes his head. “I'm not sure about this. They're unlikely to believe much in how happy I am with my life right now.”

“Are you taking it as a challenge? I'm taking it as a challenge.” And Karen is laughing, so she's on his side, and Foggy will call his mom if he has to, she's already in raptures that Matt is going to be officially part of the family.

“Fine. Fair's fair, I suppose.” Matt's smile goes a little softer, and that's a new smile, one of the ones Foggy is just now getting used to. “I did win, after all.”


End file.
